


Never Out of Style

by Roxie Ann (pluvial_poetry)



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: F/F, Pre-Movie, Yuletide 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 15:06:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17045951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pluvial_poetry/pseuds/Roxie%20Ann
Summary: “You have shit taste in men.”





	Never Out of Style

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kathryne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathryne/gifts).



The couches at Saks Fifth Avenue leave a lot to be desired in the comfort department, but the view from Lou’s perch isn't half bad. Watching Debbie try on dresses as Lou picks at the end of the tassels on a scarf that she had looked at and discarded earlier; too woolly, not really her style. 

Debbie unwraps the dress she was trying on, standing in her bra and knickers, handing the dress back to the shop girl attending her. “Maybe the blue and red we saw earlier, the Herve Leger, s'il vous plaît?” Debbie asked the girl, who nodded and sped off to retrieve it.

“Your French accent is improving.” Lou says, crossing her legs at the ankle, her boot buckles and chains clicking against each other. 

Debbie checks the mirror, smoothing down a flyaway section of her dark hair, with a half smile. “You should hear my German.”

“You should have kept that first dress, what was wrong with it?” Lou asks as she slouches down against the couch, keeping her eye out for the shop girl or any other eavesdroppers.

“I guess I’m just not in the mood for classic.” Debbie says with a shrug.

“Boat neck; it would have shown off the necklace Thom gave you to perfection. Where is that necklace, by the way?” Lou asks, mostly pointed, because Debbie will have known by now that Lou noticed. It was only a one carat diamond of slightly included clarity but Debbie had been wearing it every day for weeks. Until yesterday.

Debbie groans, letting her head fall back dramatically. “Well, Thom showed up for our dinner date last night in a full-blown panic because his wife -"

Lou sits back up on her seat, eyebrow raised. "Excuse me? Wife? Ex-wife? 'Separated but still on good terms yet soon to be ex-' wife?"

"His 'previously non-existent and never before mentioned' actual wife had found the receipt. He asked me if he could have the necklace back so that she wouldn't be suspicious." Debbie shrugs, her voice blasé.

"And you gave it back to him? Just like that." Lou asks, disbelieving. That kind of forgiveness and grace would be entirely unlike Debbie she knows, who has always lived by the motto that revenge is best served hot, and cold, and at every meal. 

"I did. Such a shame that it must have fallen out of his pocket on his way home.” Debbie flashes a quick grin at Lou in the mirror. 

Lou laughs and asks, “And how much did Tammy say she could get for it?”

“At least 2 grand.”

“Nice.” Lou says, shaking her head, looking up at Debbie from beneath the fringe of her hair. If there is a shame here, it's that--

“What?” Debbie asks.

“Nothing.”

“That’s not a nothing look.” Debbie says.

Lou sighs, tucks her hands in her jacket pockets. “You have shit taste in men.”

It's an understatement, really. Before Thom had been Chad and Kevin. A thief and a liar and now a cheater. Lou isn't one to judge, and those might not bad traits to have in their line of work. Less desirable in romances.

“Maybe. But killer taste in lingerie,” Debbie says on a laugh.

She's been standing in front of Lou wearing a demi-cup black bra and lace knickers from La Perla for the past five minutes. All golden skin and toned muscle, not an ounce of self-consciousness. Killer is also an understatement.

“That you do.” Lou agrees, her mouth a little dry all of a sudden. She rubs her hands on her knees. Debbie has look in her eyes. That look always means trouble. Sometimes fun trouble. Sometimes run for your life trouble.

"No more men," Debbie says firmly. "If I even think about getting together with another man, I want you to cut all ties with me. Just walk away until I come to my senses." 

“Madame, the Herve Leger?” The shop girl interrupts before Lou can say anything back. Debbie turns her attention away and out of her gaze Lou's shoulders relax again. She hadn't even realized that she had tensed up.

“Yes, I’ll take that and I also changed my mind on the gray Diane von Furstenberg. Can you have them both rung up for me?” Debbie says, with the posher than thou tone Debbie tends to use during these types of transactions. Her back is turned to Lou now, as she bends over to tug on the clothes she came in with. “And can I have them charged to my account? It’s Mrs. Thom Cavendish. The last four digits are 7487, and the security pin is 238.”

“Of course, Mrs. Cavendish.”

*

They don't have to wait long for the shop girl to come back with Debbie's purchases, boxed and bagged. The service has been exemplary; the Cavendish's would be pleased. 

They call a town car to take them back to Lou's apartment, bags from Barney's and Saks piled up in the trunk; charging the Cavendish Corporate account for the drive downtown. Debbie is clearly lost in thought, staring out the window, barely blinking. Lou sits beside her and doesn't interrupt.

Lou closes her eyes. She settles into the leather seats and kick her legs out in front of her. It’s easy enough to wait on Debbie, to let her take her time. They're sitting close, sharing space; and Lou is used to that too, doesn't begrudge it. The 50/50 split is better than nothing.

"It doesn't seem like the whole falling in love thing should be so difficult," Debbie says after a bit, a rueful tilt to her mouth when Lou opens her eyes again. "You find someone with similar interests and values; spend your lives together. Two people, in and out, no one gets hurt."

Lou reaches down to touch Debbie’s hand, brushing their fingers together, and Debbie breathes out like it's the first time in a long time. The woman scorned routine doesn't linger with Debbie. A little good old fashioned revenge goes a long way to soothing any emotional wounds. She bounces back, never lets anything or anyone keep her down. Lou admires that about her. She slings an arm around Debbie's shoulders and Debbie sighs again; the end of a long day kind of noise. She dances her fingers across Lou’s scarf, tugging it looser.

"True," Lou says. "You just have shit taste in men." She laughs and so does Debbie, swaying into Lou's side playfully. Debbie must be feeling happier; maybe she's even full-stop happy, even if she would never say so. Classic Debbie; she thinks Lou can read her mind. Sometimes Lou can; sometimes she knows exactly what Debbie doesn't say. But sometimes Debbie does have to say the words. No more men.

"Yeah." Debbie says as if she can hear Lou thinking in turn. She leans into Lou's side, her breath warm against Lou's collarbone. It's easy enough for Lou to tighten arm around Debbie's shoulder. "But I have great taste in women."

It's even easier for Lou to tilt Debbie's face up, softly kissing her lips. Some times it is just easy.


End file.
